


The Chair (aka the One that Got Away)

by illgiveyouallofme



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sort Of Fluff, barely smut, post-3x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 08:42:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4215225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illgiveyouallofme/pseuds/illgiveyouallofme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver and Felicity need some alone time. Desperately. Unfortunately, that's easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chair (aka the One that Got Away)

He needed to get a new chair. One with legs, and definitely not wheels. Roller chairs are great when you're working away, scanning multiple computer screens and being very professional, but trying to have sex with a beautiful woman on a chair with wheels? Absolute nightmare.

Oliver was getting really tired of trying to have sex with Felicity. For two people who spent their nights coordinating seamless attacks against the most notorious criminals in Starling City, they couldn't seem to coordinate their bodies without it ending in near-disaster. Oliver knew Felicity was beginning to get discouraged, but he was pissed. There was so much frustration in him that it was spilling over into his time as the Arrow.

Diggle, who of course knew Oliver better than he sometimes knew himself, wasn't fooled when Oliver tried to pass off his irritability by blaming the new drug lord in the Glades.

"Oliver, man," the older soldier said, "You know that's not what's got you riled up. Take Felicity out tonight. Take her to dinner, take it slow, it doesn't matter, but for the sake of the rest of us, take her to bed."

Though mildly surprised at his friend's explicit instructions, Oliver couldn't help but grunt his agreement. But even with that one goal in mind, things still didn't go quite as planned.

Later that night, after a mission that went sideways, Diggle's advice still echoed around in his head. Oliver sent everyone home early--everyone, of course, except Felicity. Whatever was going on between them was still new and unformed, but after nights like this one, he knew nothing more than his need to hold her. For her part, Felicity recognized Oliver's none-too-subtle ploy to get her alone. She didn't mind though, after the tough fight he had earlier, she literally ached with the need to touch him, to make sure he was safe and whole.

When Oliver went into the bathroom to change out of his leathers, Felicity closed up everything she'd been working on, knowing that she wouldn't have a chance--wouldn't want a chance--to get any more work done that night. Instead of getting up, she just sat at her chair and waited for him to come back to her.

Oliver, clad in grey sweats and a worn Starling City Rockets t-shirt, paused at the door of the bathroom, drinking in the sight of Felicity sitting at the computer in a form-flattering purple dress. The only outward sign of their stressful night was that her ever-present bright lipstick had faded off her lips. Once again hearing Dig's words, Oliver realize that taking it slow was the last thing he wanted to do tonight.

He stalked over to her and stopped right before her, looming over her as she sat in the chair. Without a word between them, she surged forward, standing, and practically attacked his lips with hers. All the tension of the night snapped inside him and he roughly pulled her body to his, crushing her lips in his desperation. Oh, how he loved her.

Pretty soon, just kissing Felicity wasn't enough. One hand tugged the elastic out of her hair and tangled itself in the silky waves, while the other hand found the zipper of her dress and roughly yanked it down. Before he could get it all of the way off, he spun them around and tried to pull her onto the chair with him.

It would have worked, too. If the chair had been normal and not the kind with wheels. Instead of sitting fully in the seat, Oliver miscalculated and hit the corner of the chair, causing it to roll away. Too far gone, they fell to the ground with a lot of tangled limbs and one very loud thud.

"Ahh! I killed you!" Felicity cried, "They said not to have sex before marriage-though you technically are married-but we did and now you're dead! Way to go Felicity, you-"

"Fe-li-ci-ty, I'm alive," Oliver grunted. "Move your knee and I'll be fine."

Realizing that he knew was somewhere in his very-important, must-be-protected groin region, Felicity carefully re-situated herself atop Oliver, placing a leg on either side of his hips. "Oh frack, I'm sorry I ruined the moment," she said.

"Felicity, you're nearly naked and straddling me, I wouldn't exactly say the moment is ruined."

"Oh...right...good," she stuttered, eyelids fluttering closed at the feel of his hand running up her bare thigh and his length hardening between her legs. Her dress was unzipped, slipping off her shoulder, and her skirt was pushed all the way up to her hips, but Felicity couldn't have cared less. She leaned up to pull the dress over her head, remembering just then that she hadn't worn a bra that day. Good, she thought, one less thing to take off. Oliver's hands quickly found her breasts and he rolled one nipple between his fingers while leaning up to take the other into his mouth. His scruff rasped against her sensitive skin and Felicity gasped from the intensity of it all, letting her head fall to the side and her eyes drift closed once again. Almost unconsciously, she started shifting her hips on top of Oliver's, searching for something to ease the friction building between her legs.

The sensation of Felicity grinding her hips on his was almost too much for Oliver to bear. With a groan, he pulled her down on top of him and rolled over, pinning her to the mat with his hips. He nudged her head aside and kissed a path down her neck to her collarbone, where he sucked lightly as his hands slipped inside the waistband of her lace panties. His fingers found her hot and wet for him and just when he was about to plunge two fingers inside her heat, they both froze at the sound of the door slamming open and footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Oh frack," said Felicity for the second time that night, while Oliver uttered a much more eloquent "Fuck!" Knowing he couldn't exactly roll off Felicity and leave her to fend for herself wearing nothing but a lace thong, he stayed right where he was, in quite the compromising position.

"Oh Jesus," sighed Diggle, dragging both hands across his face. "Oliver, when I told you to take her to bed tonight, this is _so_ not what I meant. On our sparring mats, really man?"

"Sorry Dig!" Oliver said, even though he wasn't sorry, not at all. Still in a compromising position with a practically-naked blonde underneath him, Oliver could do little else but apologize at this point.

"I'm just getting my phone and I'm out...but come on guys, some of us actually work around here," Dig said, trying to feel around for his phone with his eyes shut. "I'm going now, can we please not speak of this ever again? It's the least you two can do, with what I have to put up with. I'm gonna have nightmares."

"Bye John," Oliver growled, frustrated at the intrusion. After he left, Oliver tried to recapture the moment with Felicity, but it was gone. At least, he thought it was until she said "Oliver, take me home so we can do this for real."

And that's exactly what he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first attempt at anything close to smut, hope you liked it! I can be found on tumblr as illgiveyouallofme


End file.
